


other people try, but it's better when you touch me

by vibrissae



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Soft Im Jaebum | JB, and i love indie underground loser jb, and model!bambam because we love a cliche, its dirty but i'm too embarrassed to tag so warnings in the notes alsdkjfksdf, producer!jb with a photography hobby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibrissae/pseuds/vibrissae
Summary: Bambam is a free spirit, and Jaebum doesn't want to shackle him down.





	other people try, but it's better when you touch me

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know how this happened. i had originally planned a lil fluffy 5+1 about my favorite bambam 2018 looks, but i wanted to make it more interesting and i saw a ton of abo in the got7 tag so i thought hey i guess this is what the people want ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ i tried to make it less dubcony than the usual trope so i hope that shows. theyre just boyz in love havin fun
> 
> here's all of bambam's mentioned looks in order if u want ([1](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dq0TxUtXQAAEwg4.jpg), [2](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DwgSAROUYAAw0dH.jpg), [3](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DwgSJSpUcAAbaD2.jpg), [4](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DqrXUN2U0AEot8b.jpg), [5](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DnxgGZiXkAAvOHO.jpg), [6](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DfkrDGXWAAAolyO.jpg), [7](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DwgSs_qVAAApohb.jpg)) 
> 
> **warnings:** barebacking, rimming, self-lubrication, knotting. the usual abo stuff (except no mpreg)
> 
> title from "slow down" by the loml normani

The first time Jaebum met Bambam was during Jaebum’s junior year, which was too demanding a time for him to have truly noticed the outgoing, unpresented freshman, who he only met through Jinyoung via Yugyeom. The year came and went with a flurry of due dates and stress, Jaebum leaving the dorms to stay with his family in Ilsan the minute it was all over. He happily and purposely spent the summer on the farm with his parents and his cats, his only contact with anyone else being through the photography Instagram account that he lazily updates. The familiar scenery of his parents’ orchard is comforting, but it doesn’t give him the spark of inspiration he needs to make it through his upcoming final year. Jaebum supposes he’ll have to find that back downtown in Seoul.

 

-

 

The first time Jaebum meets Bambam during his senior year, it’s in his own dorm room and Jaebum almost doesn’t even recognize him. 

After a long night spent hunched over acrid developing chemicals in the university’s dark room, Jaebum is ready to fall face first into bed. But when he steps into his dorm room, he’s blasted in the face with the mingling scents of beta, omega, and sex. He’s more than a little annoyed when his eyes land on his roommate making out in bed with somebody, naked.

Jaebum pauses just within the room, letting the door slam closed behind him to give away his entrance. 

“Sorry,” Bambam is saying after the two have detangled their limbs from each other. He sits up in one of the long twin beds in Jaebum’s dorm, holding the white linens in front of himself in a semblance of modesty, “Minhyuk hyung thought you’d be gone tonight.” 

“You’re in my bed,” Jaebum replies blankly, aimed at his roommate. He’s a little dazed, from exhaustion and the overwhelming smells in the air, “You fucked on my bed?”

Minhyuk visibly winces, “It’s still the first week. Not too late to switch?”

Jaebum shakes his head slowly, gesturing to their desks, “We’d have to swap everything around. I’ll just... change the sheets.” He’s too tired to deal with this. “But I swear to god, Minhyuk, if you ever again—” 

Minhyuk cuts Jaebum off before he can finish his threat, “Nope! Never again! It was an accident anyway, Bambam was distracting me with his t—”

“Aaand that’s my cue to get going,” Bambam interrupts as he slides out of the bed shamelessly, a polar opposite to the boy who was clinging to the sheets mere moments ago. Jaebum’s a little stunned from the whiplash. “Maybe we can continue where we left off sometime?”

Bambam moves to rummage around the floor, pulling on his tossed aside clothing when he finds them, seemingly unaware of the two pairs of eyes staring at his ass as he yanks his pants over his long legs. After putting on a blue turtleneck and the aviator glasses that had been laying on the bedside table, he’s headed toward the door, exclaiming, “See you around Minhyuk hyung! Sorry about your bed… um, Jaebum-ssi, right?” He’s gone with a wink. 

Jaebum blinks a few times, trying to process what just happened. “That was Yugyeom’s Bambam?” He asks Minhyuk, who shrugs in response, “He was like, way shorter and unpresented last year.” He knows it’s only really been the summer, but he hadn’t seen Bambam much throughout the last school year, as their majors don’t overlap. Bambam must have presented over the summer though, because Jaebum would have at least remembered that unfamiliar smell that’s circulating in the air now, an almost fruity scent that’s hard to distinguish, mixed with the smell of his roommate.

“I wouldn’t know about that, but he’s getting quite the reputation on campus this semester. I’m surprised you haven’t heard.” 

Jaebum grunts in reply, ushering Minhyuk out of his bed to hastily tear the sheets off, trying to ignore the smell and any possible stains. “I mostly work by myself in the studio or dark room.”

Minhyuk nods, gathering his shower supplies and a fresh set of clothes from his side of the dorm, “Yeah, well, Bambam’s the hot new omega on campus. He’s been hooking up a lot, and now people are talking about him.”

Jaebum’s surprised, but he doesn’t know Bambam that well, doesn’t think that he has the right to comment. 

Jaebum walks Minhyuk to the showers, headed the same way toward the laundromat. While his linens soak in the washer, he pulls out his phone to pass the time. When he automatically opens Instagram to refresh his feed, he’s surprised to see that Minhyuk had earlier uploaded a picture with Bambam, in the same outfit he had thrown on before he ran out of their dorm. Bambam looks good, his auburn hair almost orange in the sunlight of the photograph. The turtleneck hugs his slim body, a sliver of skin visible where the shirt is cropped just an inch too short. They appear to have been on a date, but Minhyuk’s caption uses bro too much for Jaebum to guess that it was very serious. Impulsively, Jaebum takes a screenshot and crops Minhyuk out, saves the simple photo of Bambam holding up a peace sign. 

Jaebum’s load in the washer clicks off, and he locks his phone, not sure what to think of his own actions. He finishes his laundry.

But if he washed all of his bedding, save the pillowcase that he lays on, that’s between him and the sweet-smelling pillow that he buries his face into as he drifts to sleep.

 

-

 

The next time is just as unexpected for Jaebum, if not for everyone involved. He has a recording studio booked for the afternoon, and he’s a couple minutes early, but since the semester has barely begun most students usually file out before their time in the studio is over. Except this time, of course, Jaebum notices after he unlocks the door, and walks in to see a couple heatedly making out on the studio’s small couch. Jaebum stops in the doorway, as the two in the room haven’t noticed him yet. He internally groans, _again?_

He’s about to leave and come back in a few minutes when it’s actually his turn for the room, but one of the men sitting on the couch notice his presence. The wet, smacking sound of lips separating is noisy in the confined room. “Jaebum hyung!” Jackson is chirping, as he gently moves the person on his lap, who Jaebum now recognizes as Bambam, to the other side of the couch, away from where he had been straddling Jackson. “I didn’t know you had the room booked next. Sorry, man.”

Jaebum hesitates, eyes catching on Bambam’s frustrated glare, dark eyebrows low and arms crossed over his red Calvin Klein shirt and the gold chains that adorn his neck. His hair has a fresh, severe undercut and is a shocking platinum blonde, in comparison to the darker auburn it had been last time Jaebum had seen him. But it complements his outfit and red is a good color on him, Jaebum thinks, as he apprehensively waves to Bambam, then faces Jackson, “No, it’s my fault. I’m a little early.”

Both men turn to Bambam as he pipes up, looking more relaxed on the couch, and less annoyed Jaebum is glad to note, “Jaebum-ssi is in music production? Mm, that’s sexy.”

Jaebum blushes and tugs the rim of his bucket hat down further to cover his face. He’s a little shocked at Bambam’s brazen flirting, and mixed with kissed red lips, hair tousled from Jackson’s hands, Bambam seems almost provocative sprawled across the couch.

But it’s Jackson who responds first, shrieking, “Hey, I’m in production too Bam! You didn’t care!”

Bambam’s gaze flits over to Jackson, but ends up back on Jaebum, considering his baggy camouflage pants, and the bucket hat he has on over his shaggy black hair. “But Jaebum-ssi looks the part of underground producer.”

“You can call me hyung,” Jaebum chokes out, feeling exposed under Bambam’s stare that rakes him from bottom to top. 

“Okay,” Bambam agrees easily, smirks, and hops off the couch with a swing of his large Double B necklace, “See you around hyungs!” He’s out the door after placing a kiss on Jackson’s cheek and sending Jaebum a return wave.

Jaebum’s eyes shift to Jackson, taking in his disheveled appearance, hair all over the place, and lips wet and bitten. He asks, probably too harshly, “Is everyone hooking up with Bambam now?”

Jackson shrugs, “Everyone except you, loser.”

“Aren’t you both omegas? How exactly does that work?” Jaebum snipes back, telling himself that the only reason he’s bothered is because Jackson and Bambam have interrupted his own time in the studio. His mind starts to wander to thoughts of him and Bambam alone in the studio instead, but he shuts that down before it can go anywhere. He doesn’t need to be distracted for the rest of his room time.

Jackson sighs, speaks slowly, patronizingly, “Oh, Jaebum hyung, you’re so old-fashioned. It works like any other sexual relationship, I’m sure you’ve been in one at some point, and if not, hyung, there’s still hope—”

Jaebum groans, exasperated, but he lets Jackson continue teasing him. He knows that he shouldn’t have lashed out like that in the first place, and once Jackson has gotten his revenge, he apologizes. He’s mostly just glad Bambam wasn’t around to hear him. 

While Jaebum waits for Jackson to pack his things and reset the room, he scrolls down his Twitter feed. He’s not really surprised to see that Jackson and Bambam had uploaded a selfie of themselves cuddling on that very studio sofa, as they both have a strong social media presence. Like the picture with Minhyuk, he saves it to his phone. He hesitates before cropping out Jackson. He hadn’t thought about it previously, but was that weird? He’s not sure if it’s creepy or not, but he figures no one will find out. He crops Jackson away. 

This time, he adds the newly saved photo and the last one of Bambam in the turtleneck into a folder that he titles with a simple snake emoji. He likes to keep his pictures organized. But if he constantly opens up the small album throughout his allotted studio time, well, it’s no one’s business what type of songs the pictures inspire him to compose.

 

-

 

The third time Jaebum meets Bambam is the last time that he really keeps track, because after, Bambam is a constant in his life.

Jaebum is at a small cafe with Jinyoung and Yugyeom, munching on an overpriced slice of strawberry cake when the door to the cafe swings open, letting in the cold air and… Bambam. His ears, with large silver hoops hanging from them, are visibly red from the crisp November air, even though he’s dressed for the weather. A black puffer jacket covers the silver chains atop his black turtleneck, and he’s pulling down a facemask, looking around the cafe. He stops for a second to push back the dark brown bangs that had been falling into his eyes, but a strand falls back anyway. Jaebum can see from their nearby table that Bambam’s nails are painted a dramatic black, and that’s new. Or he just hadn’t noticed it before. It suits Bambam, Jaebum thinks, matches his elegant hands and pretty features.

Jaebum gulps down the large piece of cake he had been chewing on, almost suffocates himself in his haste when he notices that Bambam is heading their way, following where Yugyeom is waving and calling his name too loudly.

“Hey guys,” Bambam greets them cheerfully, in comparison to the all-black ensemble and the bright red eyeshadow that make him look vaguely intimidating. At least, Jaebum thinks, in the sense that he looks so good he’s almost unapproachable. The friendliness in Bambam’s voice softens any possible intimidation from his high fashion appearance, “I’m going to get a drink, be right back!” 

Bambam stands in line, but when he reaches the register, his posture straightens and his face seems to brighten. Jaebum can tell that he is enthusiastically chatting with the barista, but he wonders what they’re discussing. From the fact that Bambam is reaching over the counter to fix the barista’s tie, trailing the silk in his grasp as he lets go, Jaebum can guess that it’s most likely more than innocent. 

He looks back down at his cake.

Across the table, Yugyeom sighs, mumbling something to Jinyoung that Jaebum only catches the tail end of, “—’s so stupid.”

Jinyoung mumbles back, “He’s your best friend. He asked us to come here.” 

Jaebum is confused. Bambam’s acting stupid? By flirting with the barista? But Bambam wanted them to meet him here? Did Bambam want to see Jaebum, specifically? Yugyeom and Jinyoung did invite him out. Jaebum’s caught in his thoughts, causing him to miss when Bambam sits back at the table with a happy, “Hi Jaebum hyung!”

It takes him a beat to reply, making it instantly awkward, and the bright smile on Bambam’s face falters, making Jaebum sweat, “Yeah, uh, hey.”

Not one to give up easily, Bambam soldiers on to initiate a friendly conversation, “So I know you’re in music production, but what kind of music do you make?”

Jaebum visibly relaxes at the familiar topic, his thumb pauses where it had been almost nervously twisting the heavy silver ring on his index finger.

“I’ve just started working on a R&B album for my senior project, but I’ve done other genres, a ballad or two, y’know,” Jaebum tells him, returning to his cake slice now that the danger of choking has hopefully passed.

Bambam sighs dreamily, tilting his head and placing his cheek in his hand, elbow on the table, “Hyung has such a nice voice, I’d love to hear your songs sometime.” 

Jaebum finally meets his gaze, Bambam’s eyes wide and almost shining, lips wet and plump from where he was sucking on the straw in his drink. 

_Cute_ , Jaebum thinks, and it clashes with Bambam’s current grunge vibe, but his face is so bright, his smile lights up the room, and his personality is so warm (Jaebum tries not to think about how his scent, tangy grapefruit and rich cedar, melts him from the inside out as well). Jaebum can’t think of a better word to describe Bambam with.

Jaebum agrees easily, he appreciates Bambam’s genuine interest. “Tell me more about yourself though,” Jaebum suggests, noticing that Yugyeom and Jinyoung are cleaning up after themselves and casually slipping out. Does that now make this a date? 

Bambam reveals that although he’s a scouted model who has appeared in several small magazines, both Korean and Thai, his major is actually fashion, because he’s also interested in the creative side of the industry. He has four cats back home in Thailand, he was rapping for Jackson that time in the studio, and when he’s laughing his nose wrinkles adorably. The last one Jaebum notices himself. 

Bambam’s talking about his hobbies after he noticed the polaroid camera sitting on the table in front of Jaebum, “See I don’t know much photography besides with modelling, but I like to edit videos and stuff. I have a drone!”

Jaebum grins at Bambam’s enthusiasm. Jaebum’s only spoken to him a few times, hadn’t yet gotten the chance to get to know him. He hopes they can make this more of a regular occurrence, Bambam is sweet and funny, and they have a lot of similarities. 

Jaebum takes advantage of the moment, “I can show you a little photography? People like these types of cameras lately,” he picks up the polaroid, “they’re in style. Since you’re a model, I could take your photo?”

Bambam giggles, eyes scrunching up, “Sure!” He throws up a finger heart as Jaebum brings the camera up to eye level. The flash goes off, and the polaroid comes out. Jaebum takes it from the camera carefully and places it face down on the table to develop.

After a couple minutes of idle conversation, Bambam picks the photograph up, examining himself in it, “Hmm, I look good today. Chic, right?” 

Instead of waiting for Jaebum’s brusque _Yeah_ in response, Bambam leans over to reach into his backpack, searching for something. He hums in triumph when he pulls out a Sharpie marker, pops the cap off to sign the polaroid with a flourish. He outstretches the photo to Jaebum, says with a cheeky curl to his lips, “For you, since I’m a famous model and all.”

Jaebum takes it, holding it by the edges to avoid getting oil from his fingertips on it, and slips it into his backpack for safekeeping. Quietly, he says, “Thank you, Bambam-ah.” Bambam seems to redden a little at the sincerity in his voice.

As soon as Jaebum returns to his dorm room, he pulls out the polaroid, and places it in the little transparent window pocket in his wallet. Bambam is just really cute. It makes Jaebum smile when he sees the photo. Nobody has to know.

(Except of course, Bambam, when the next time Jaebum meets with him at the cafe, he’s paying for him, and because Bambam is too friendly, he was leaning on Jaebum’s shoulder and noticed the familiar photo. After seeing that Jaebum was almost reverently carrying around a photograph of Bambam, neither of them can make eye contact from embarrassment for the rest of the evening.)

 

-

 

It’s nearing the end of Jaebum’s senior year, the week before finals and final projects are due, the calm before the storm. 

It’s during this time that he sees Bambam in one of his favorite clubs in Itaewon. He’s used to Bambam being around now, he enjoys his company and they have a comfortable friendship at this point, even if maybe Jaebum wants something more. He didn’t really count that time at the cafe as a date, and he doesn’t really count any of the other times he’s met up with Bambam alone, just the two of them, because Bambam has never suggested that their relationship was anything but friendly. Jaebum’s thought about admitting his own feelings, but it feels too selfish, as if he would be burdening Bambam. He’d rather treasure his friendship with Bambam than scare him away with his silly emotions.

But Jaebum’s never run into Bambam in this kind of atmosphere. Jaebum visits this club frequently, to party and to perform, and Bambam’s presence is a little unexpected.

Jaebum’s performing with his music crew, and he’s on stage singing _Higher_ when his eyes connect with Bambam’s in the small, intimate audience. It’s over the shoulder of a tall man that Bambam appears to be grinding on, arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders, his white painted fingernails cutting into his back. His stare seems to bore into Jaebum. Eyes still holding their connection, Bambam presses his lips to his dance partner’s neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his skin. The deliberate action has Jaebum distracted, and he hesitates, misses the beginning of a note. He hopes Deepshower didn’t notice the mistake, but he’s sure no one else would have been paying much attention, everyone in the crowd too drunk and having too good a time.

Except Bambam, it seems. _Higher_ is winding down when Jaebum notices the omega looking disgruntled, having separated himself from the intimate embrace he was just held in. His eyebrows are pinched and his mouth is moving quickly, both of his hands placed on the chest of the man he had been dancing with. 

When the song comes to an end, Jaebum clumsily leaves the little stage, his portion of the crew’s set complete anyway. He makes his way through the crowd easily enough, people parting when they sense an irritated alpha heading their direction. It’s easy to find Bambam as well, as his hair, bright blonde again, gives away his position. 

Now that he’s among the crowd, Jaebum can tell that the man Bambam was dancing with is another alpha, and he currently has his hand gripping Bambam’s hip, attempting to move into his space. Neither notice Jaebum until he clears his throat, keeping his voice low and casual to not draw unnecessary attention, “Maybe you should let him go? He doesn’t seem interested.”

It’s directed at the other alpha, but instead, Bambam turns to Jaebum, eyes wide and, surprisingly to Jaebum, looking at him with anger. He replies with excessive politeness, “Excuse me, alpha, but I have this under control.” The other alpha smirks at Jaebum, who flushes at Bambam’s retaliation. 

“Ah, I apologize,” Jaebum says as his feet shuffle backward, attempting to remove himself from the situation, “I thought something else was going on.”

Bambam sighs and rolls his eyes, “Whatever, you ruined the mood already anyway.” He takes his hands off his dance partner’s chest and flops onto Jaebum’s shoulder instead, clinging to his bicep. He starts to drag Jaebum to the bar, waving to the other alpha, “See you around Hyunwoo hyung.”

They stand near the edge of the packed bar, no seats available. Bambam nuzzles his cheek into Jaebum’s shoulder, looking up with his big, sparkling eyes that cause Jaebum’s breath to hitch. Bambam is naturally cute, but his makeup tonight makes him seem especially sweet. His makeup is soft and warm, orange eyeshadow and a matching fake blush high up on the bridge of his nose, his plush lips pink and moist with gloss. 

Jaebum’s heart sinks at the thought that Bambam was here at the club, looking practically angelic, to find someone to sleep with. He’s a little disappointed that Bambam wasn’t there solely to watch his music set. His inner self-pity causes him to miss what Bambam mumbled into his bicep, so he replies, “Huh?”

Bambam’s lips twitch in a smile, “I said that it was cute that you were worried about me Jaebummie hyung, but I like to rile up alphas for fun. Makes them rougher, y’know?” 

Jaebum’s eyes widen, he can feel a very real blush cross his own face, and he sputters in surprise, laughing, “Bambam!” He thinks that becoming friends with Bambam over these last two semesters will eventually be the death of him. But a beautiful smile adorns Bambam’s face as he laughs as well, and Jaebum thinks it’s worth it. 

Bambam says fondly, “For an R&B producer guy who sings about sex, you sure are a prude, hyung.”

“Singer-songwriter,” Jaebum absentmindedly corrects before he gives the bartender their order. He’s shown Bambam a few of his songs at this point, older works that were made before he even met him. But Jaebum suspects that Jinyoung has been leaking his senior project to Bambam, in some attempt to push them together faster. Bambam occasionally jokes or says something that is much too similar to one of the lyrics on the R&B album that has become full of songs inspired by him. Jaebum doesn’t really mind, he’s planning on sharing it with Bambam one day. Just not today. The album is too personal, and Bambam isn’t dumb, he’d probably realize that Jaebum has feelings for him when he finally hears it in full. So maybe he’s waiting for Bambam to reciprocate his feelings before he reveals his. Maybe it’s a little cowardly, but he’s never been the bravest. 

“Yeah, that,” Bambam nods, squeezing Jaebum’s bicep gently and drawing him from his introspection. He waits to continue until Jaebum’s attention is back on him, “Your set was really good by the way. You and your friends are really talented, hyung.”

Jaebum smiles sheepishly, ducks to look down at his feet as he pulls the brim of his baseball cap further down his face. He can’t reply, his throat feels tight from emotion, and he wishes Bambam meant that as much as it meant to him. 

He takes a deep breath and looks up to see Bambam has left him to lean over the bar and flirt with the bartender. Still, Jaebum pulls out the little Konica camera that he carries on him, and sneaks a few pictures of Bambam’s profile, orange-tinted blush visible in the bar’s overhead lights. Bambam might not be his, but the photographs he takes give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he were.

But Bambam is turning back to him, a colorful cocktail and a beer in hand. Bambam always seems to come back to him, and that squeezes something in Jaebum’s chest. Makes him a little more confident too. 

Although, they had been waiting on the drinks. He has been told that he can be a little dramatic at times.

Bambam slides the beer to Jaebum before his lips curl around the straw of his own fruity drink. When he stops drinking to speak, his lip tint is left smeared on the straw. Jaebum’s eyes follow the straw up to Bambam’s pink lips. Jaebum realizes that they’re moving a little too late into the sentence.

“—together sometime?” Bambam is saying, his eyes are bright and hopeful, and Jaebum realizes that he’s waiting for an answer to a question that he didn’t hear.

“Um.”

Bambam sighs, his face falling only a fraction, but Jaebum catches it. He can feel his own heart fall to his stomach as he recognizes the disappointment on Bambam’s face, in the slightest downturn of his lips.

“Uh, yes? Yeah, sure?” Jaebum hazards a guess, but the uncertainty in his voice must be obvious, because Bambam is rolling his eyes and turning to place his only half finished drink on the bartop.

“I’m gonna head out, hyung,” Bambam says before he gets the bartender’s attention to close his tab.

Jaebum supposes that whatever Bambam had asked must not have been that important.

 

-

 

Bambam’s showing off his outfit of the day in Jinyoung and Yugyeom’s living room, telling them that he got it from work earlier that morning. He’s dressed in a clean white button up, a decorative silk handkerchief around his neck, and a Chanel beret atop his artfully parted blonde hair. His long, draping pearl earring glints in the light when he exaggeratedly poses this way and that as Yugyeom pretends to take pictures of him.

Jaebum’s in the bathroom, but his expensive film camera sits on the coffee table, next to their takeout that just arrived. Yugyeom picks it up to more realistically pretend to take pictures of Bambam. He wouldn’t actually waste the film though, Jaebum’s yelled at him enough times about that for him to be too bored to listen to it again.

“So they just let models take items from the photoshoot?” Jinyoung asks after Bambam informed him that yes, it is all designer.

“No, only because I’m so cute,” Bambam jokes, poking his cheek with a perfectly manicured finger and pouting. A flash goes off from the entryway to the living room, where Jaebum is standing, red-handed, his phone held up high. Bambam squawks in indignation, “Delete that! I’m only cute on my own terms!”

“Mm, give me the 10000 won you owe me for covering you for dinner and I might,” Jaebum says, sliding his phone in his pocket. He makes his way to the table, sitting down to start opening up the boxes of food they bought.

Bambam huffs, crossing his arms dramatically as he flops down onto the ground in front of the coffee table. 

Yugyeom and Jinyoung follow, with the latter squinting at Bambam, “Should you be eating in that outfit?”

Considering the sauce packet that Yugyeom is sloppily opening across from him, Bambam decides to strip off the button up, a white t-shirt underneath, and stands to carefully lay it over the couch to prevent wrinkles. “Thanks hyung, I have a date after this, so that could’ve been bad.”

Jaebum starts coughing, choking on the too large bite of food that he just shoved into his mouth. He stares at Jinyoung with wild eyes, prompting him.

“Oh? A date? With who?” Jinyoung asks dispassionately, stealing a bite from Yugyeom’s plate.

“Hm, would you know him? Wonho? Jackson hyung introduced us, they’re in the athletics department together,” Bambam shrugs, picking at his own food. “I haven’t really spoken to him much but Jackson hyung is a good judge of character.”

Bambam’s nonchalance placates Jaebum a little. He still looks gloomy, but Jinyoung figures maybe a little push could help knock some sense into his friend. So he replies too happily, “Oh! Wonho hyung!” Jinyoung grabs his phone and pulls up Jackson’s instagram, scrolls down a few weeks to find a picture that Jackson posted, of him and Wonho flexing in front of a mirror, clearly at a gym. He turns the phone around and shows it to the rest of the table, smirking, “This Wonho hyung right?”

When Bambam nods in confirmation, Jaebum snatches the phone, lamenting over it, “This Wonho hyung? You’re dating him?”

Bambam smiles fondly at Jaebum, who is too concerned with the photo to notice. “I mean, I wouldn’t call it dating, but I guess. We both like other people so we’re just kind of having fun.” 

Jaebum’s head snaps up at that, “You like someone? Since when?”

“For a while now, but he’s too dumb to tell I like him. We kind of went on a date once but,” Bambam shrugs a shoulder, catches Jaebum’s gaze, “I’m not sure if he likes me back.”

Yugyeom and Jinyoung share a look.

Jaebum pauses. Bambam’s stare pierces through him, and it feels meaningful, but - he can’t possibly mean… He licks his dry lips, isn’t sure if he imagines it or if Bambam’s eyes actually follow the movement, but he tries to speak with enough inflection for Bambam to get the hint, “I’m sure they like you back.”

The atmosphere at the table has become tense during their little staring contest, no one eating and the room painfully quiet. 

Jaebum breaks the silence by opening a takeout box. He’s said enough for today, and it’s not really the time or place anyway. Not when this is something that they should be discussing alone.

Dinner continues peacefully, catching up and playful teasing. After helping to clean up and collecting their belongings, Jaebum and Bambam leave Jinyoung and Yugyeom’s apartment.

They’re walking to the bus stop together in a comfortable silence, side by side. Their hands brush every now and then, they’re standing so close, but Jaebum is too nervous to reach out and grab hold. He worries about the affection he shows Bambam, doesn’t want to weigh him down with emotions and responsibilities. Bambam is a young, beautiful omega, and Jaebum doesn’t blame him for having fun instead of dating and commitment. He’s still in college, they’re both still in college, after all. He’ll be there waiting when Bambam is ready for that, one day. For now, the least he can do is offer Bambam his jacket, as he can see the boy shivering in the night air with only the protection of his button up. Jaebum’s dressed more practically, his loose, layering style convenient during cold nights.

Bambam pulls the too large leather jacket around himself, inhaling the blend of a musky scent of leather, cologne and Jaebum. “Isn’t your apartment the other way? You don’t have to walk me to the bus stop.”

Jaebum shrugs, fiddling with the knobs on the camera around his neck, “It’s getting dark, better to be safe than sorry.”

“Hyung does care!” Bambam rejoices, linking elbows with Jaebum, his other hand coming up to curl around Jaebum’s arm as well. 

“Of course I care about you,” Jaebum says adamantly, though Bambam’s words make him wonder if in his efforts to avoid exposing his true feelings for Bambam, if he was maybe too distant. 

“I know, hyung, but you’re bad at talking about your feelings,” Bambam states frankly. It’s easy to recognize in Jaebum, because he’s the same. They’re so alike sometimes, Bambam thinks. So he changes the subject, since neither of them are very good with their feelings. Dinner was enough awkwardness for the day, he’d rather just spend the time he has with Jaebum comfortably. He tries to lighten the mood by teasing, “Maybe writing a song about me would be easier for you?”

Jaebum can’t meet Bambam’s eyes. Bambam still doesn’t know. Jaebum can’t tell him that all the songs he writes these days are about him. He still hasn’t found the right time.

Luckily Jaebum doesn’t have to answer, as the wind picks up, attempting to take Bambam’s beret with it and distracting him. Bambam lets go of Jaebum to reach up and keep the hat on his head. Jaebum thinks that the wind did an even better job ruffling his hair than the stylists at his photoshoot.

“Can I take your picture?” Jaebum asks, lifting his camera. “Since I missed out on you and Yugyeom’s little photoshoot before dinner.”

“Since when do you bother asking?” Bambam teases, sticking his tongue out. He twirls away from Jaebum, pausing in front of a bar window that is brightly lit with neon signs. “Is this hipster enough to make your Instagram?”

“I have a very carefully curated aesthetic,” Jaebum grumbles, but the neon lights reflect on Bambam’s face so sublimely that he doesn’t hesitate to snap a photograph. The exposure is too low though, with the change in scenery, and he has to adjust the shutter speed before they can continue. 

Jaebum loves taking photos of Bambam with film, it fits his elegance and class, like now, when he looks expensive and almost delicate, draped in pearls and silk. His nude makeup enhances his natural features, high cheekbones and pretty lips.

Jaebum uploads the photo to his Instagram the next week, when the first semester of grad school has started and he can finally access the university dark room again. He’s not taking any more photography classes, focused on music production, but he managed to get an old classmate to let him in. He supposes he could have sent it off to get developed, but he enjoys the process, feels as if it makes the photograph more personal, in a way, to do the actual work. 

Jaebum wonders if Bambam has forgotten about their impromptu photoshoot by the time he gets around to uploading the picture, but the comments on his Instagram post suggest otherwise.

_double_b: i made it on Def-nim’s insta!!!!!!_  
double_b: hyung is a better photographer than experts at my actual photoshoots btw ㅋㅋ  
double_b: <3 

Jaebum can’t help but to reply.

_off_def: Only because you’re my muse_

It’s nearly, almost, a confession, but Bambam started it at dinner, Jaebum decides. A little honesty never hurt.

 

-

 

“Hyung,” followed by a hiccup greets Jaebum when he reflexively answers his phone after it wakes him at, he glances at his bedside clock, 2:07 am. “I’ve missed you~”

“Who’s this?” Jaebum asks because it’s ass o’clock at night and he can barely make sense of where he is, let alone make out the muffled voice over the phone.

The reply oozes _pouty_ , “You don’t recognize my voice?”

Jaebum pulls his phone away from his face, blinded by the light for a moment, before he sees _Bam-ah❤_ displayed in large letters across the screen. “Bam? It’s two in the morning. Why are you calling?” 

Jaebum hasn’t seen or heard from Bambam since that uncomfortable dinner filled with unsaid emotions. He hasn’t really been avoiding Bambam, but it just so happened that their schedules conflicted lately and Jaebum took advantage of that to get some time apart. To think. But Bambam’s saying he missed him, and now Jaebum feels a little guilty for willfully ignoring him. Even if Bambam does seem intoxicated, there must be some truth to the statement.

“Jaebummie,” Bambam sing-songs, and it sounds like he’s in a busy area, loud music and the cacophony of people talking over each other audible in the background of his end of the call. “Hyung, I’m drunk and I need a ride home.”

“Take a taxi,” Jaebum groans into his pillow.

“I don’t have enough money in my account, it’s too far,” Bambam admits, and the chaotic background has quietened, suggesting that he likely left the bar he had been in, from what Jaebum put together. 

“But you have money to go out drinking?” Jaebum points out, awake enough to decide that he might as well go pick up the omega. He sits up, grabbing and pulling on the sweatpants that were thrown over his desk chair. He hastily pulls on enough layers to stay warm, adding a bucket hat on top to cover his bedhead.

“I don’t buy my own drinks,” Bambam explains coyly, continuing before Jaebum can hang up, “But hyung, I’m sorry to bother you. I thought I had a ride.”

Jaebum's out the door by the time that Bambam is apologizing, but he pauses while he’s locking up the apartment. He recognizes the worry in Bambam’s voice, and he tries to sound soothing in his reply, “It’s not a big deal Bam, I just got home from the studio, I hadn’t been asleep long.” That seems to stress Bambam out more, as he whines a sad hyung into the phone.

“Not what I meant,” Jaebum winces and locks the door, runs down the few flights of stairs to the car garage where he’s parked, talking into the phone as he goes, “it’s okay, it’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah, friends,” the tinny, dejected response comes down the line. “I’m at that club in Itaewon. See you, hyung.” He hangs up.

 _That_ club, he says, because that club is the one in which Jaebum’s underground Def persona grew, where he met most of his friends and hookups in his early years of college, where Bambam meets most of his hookups now. Jaebum remembers from that time he saw Bambam there during his set with Deepshower—

He drives slightly over the speed limit to get to Itaewon.

When Jaebum pulls up to the curb of the gay club, he sees a slender figure standing next to the club’s entrance. He rolls his passenger side window down, ducks to see out the window and he’d recognize him anywhere, so he calls, “Bam-ah.”

Bambam perks up from where he had been resting against the wall, and he sways over, long legs elegant in the dim street lights. He leans into the open passenger window, the front of his colorful, breezy shirt gaping, exposing his chest if Jaebum were to look down. He maintains eye contact with Bambam’s knowing gaze. He notices that Bambam’s hair is dark now, but the tips of his bangs are dip dyed in yellow, matching his shirt. It’s interesting and a little avant garde, and Bambam looks like the model he is. 

Before Bambam can speak, Jaebum suggests, “I can park? We can go get ramyun around the corner, that convenience store should be open.”

“Mm, okay,” Bambam answers, reaching further into the car to pinch Jaebum’s cheek. Jaebum is about to protest the treatment, but Bambam gasps in surprise, his hand sliding around to Jaebum’s nape, exposed under the bucket hat. “Did you get a haircut?”

Jaebum nods. Bambam’s long, cold fingers stroke the naked skin of his neck and send a shiver down his spine, “Yeah, it was getting a little annoying.”

To Jaebum’s surprise, Bambam pouts, “But it looked good on you.” 

Jaebum laughs, but Bambam sounds genuine, if a little tipsy still. “I can grow it back out?” 

“Maybe not that good,” Bambam giggles as he backs up from the car to lean against a street light, heel tapping the concrete in faux impatience, “Let’s go eat!”

Jaebum takes off to find a parking spot, to hurry back to Bambam. 

After he parks and returns to the club entrance, he finds Bambam in the same spot. 

When Jaebum calls Bambam’s name, he turns around, and the lighting is perfect. 

Before Jaebum can finish asking _Can I—_ Bambam rolls his eyes, used to Jaebum’s habit by now, and says, “Just make it fast, I’m hungry.” 

Jaebum takes his cellphone out. He’s angry at himself for not thinking ahead and bringing a more sufficient camera, but he puts the phone in portrait mode and takes a few photos. He’s not going to give up any chance to photograph Bambam, even if it’s on a lower quality camera. After he’s sure that he has a good, clear photo, he pauses, and looks over the phone to stare at Bambam, unobstructed. The gold lighting of the old street lamp halos his black hair, complements his skin where it peeks out of his open shirt. Bambam looks beautiful and almost regal, flowy sleeves and confident posture. If Jaebum were to post that photo at that moment, he’d caption it _prince_.

When Bambam catches on to Jaebum’s fixation, he whines, annoyed but mostly endeared. He saunters over to Jaebum and gently pushes the hand holding his phone down, “Can we go eat now that you have your picture?”

Jaebum laughs, a little bashfully, at Bambam catching him staring, but he nods and pockets his phone. His eyes catch on Bambam’s silky shirt again, with its deep neck. He reaches over to Bambam, tugs him closer, takes the bucket hat off his own head to plop on Bambam’s, because his ears were red from the cold, and buttons the shirt up until only his collarbone is exposed. He tries to lighten the mood, joking, “It’s cold, your nipples will freeze off.”

Bambam clutches his chest and bounces away, shrieking, scandalized, “Stop thinking about my nipples!” 

Jaebum groans, but catches up with Bambam where he’s already started to head to the store, swings an arm around Bambam’s shoulders. Jaebum’s noticed himself become more physically affectionate with Bambam than he normally tends to be with people. He’s so cute that Jaebum can’t help himself, wants to squish him like he does with his cats. (And if he’s rubbing his scent onto Bambam, practically branding him to other alphas, that’s an unintended consequence. Mostly.)

Before they can enter the store, Bambam’s steps falter and stop them. Jaebum’s arm remains as a comfortable weight when his eyes shift to look at Bambam, curious.

Bambam grabs Jaebum’s hand where it’s hanging, and says quietly, “Thanks for coming to get me, hyung. I sent my last paycheck to my family.”

Jaebum squeezes his hand, “Anytime, Bam.” 

They’re both leaning in unconsciously, already so close with Jaebum’s arm around Bambam’s skinny shoulders. Jaebum’s eyes dart to where Bambam is gulping, adam’s apple bobbing. Jaebum glances back up to Bambam’s lips, red, as they always seem to be, whether from gloss or from kissing. 

The moment is broken before it can begin. The nearby convenience shop door swings open, its little bell ringing in the quiet night and a small group of drunk people stumbling out. They both startle when they finally notice their very public surroundings.

Jaebum uses the distraction and his arm already wrapped around Bambam to catch the younger in a headlock with the crook of his elbow, hauling him into the store.

When they’re slurping hot ramyun, shoulder to shoulder at the convenience store counter, napkins tucked into Bambam’s fancy shirt to protect from any splashes, he starts speaking quietly in between bites of noodles, “I went out with Jooheon hyung but I guess he ran into an ex, and they left together. Which is fine, but he was nice. I thought we were having more than just fun.” Jaebum finally notices the little hickeys up Bambam’s long neck, visible in the bright shop fluorescents, and he figures that they were at least having fun before Jooheon‘s ex arrived.

But what Bambam said also peaked his interest. Hesitantly, he asks, “Are you looking for a relationship now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’d be up for giving one a try. To be honest, it’s getting tiring having to find someone to hook up with,” Bambam shrugs, slurping down the broth in his little plastic bowl, carefully placing it back down on the counter when it’s empty. “And maybe I am looking for something deeper.” He finishes, meeting Jaebum’s eyes under the brim of the borrowed bucket hat that he’s still wearing.

Jaebum nods slowly, stirring his noodles, idly surprised that Bambam finished eating before him for once. His mind is racing thinking about how Bambam is maybe ready for a relationship. He’s not sure if he should confess his feelings now though, doesn’t think Bambam is really ready for something that heavy. He thinks that even if Bambam is ready for some type of commitment, it would still be the wrong time. Bambam was just saying that he was interested in Jooheon, even if that didn’t get very far. Next time, Jaebum supposes.

So he changes the subject. Asks Bambam about school, about his cats, about anything other than how he might be ready for a relationship. The topic doesn’t really matter, he could talk to Bambam the whole night. And they almost have, it’s already 3:30 am when he glances at the time on the phone, as he and Bambam are hunched together, showing each others pictures of their cats. Although Jaebum knows that they could easily keep talking until the sun rises, he slurps down the rest of his bowl so that they can leave and hopefully catch a few hours of sleep.

They leisurely walk to Jaebum’s car after their late night snack, Bambam tucked under his arm, holding onto Jaebum’s hand that was resting on his shoulder in a familiar position. The heels of Bambam’s boots click down the sidewalk, and Jaebum is amazed at how Bambam still looks so small under his arm. Bambam is practically taller than him with the added few inches of his heels, but there he is, cuddling into him to beat the cold. The street lights cause his long eyelashes to cast a shadow onto the apples of his cheeks and it’s so picturesque. He can’t get over how perfect Bambam is, how cute he looks with his face squished into the crook of Jaebum’s neck. 

Jaebum can see where he left the car, just a few parking spaces ahead. He doesn’t really want to let go of Bambam though. Wants to hold him as long as he possibly can.

Before they reach the car, Bambam snakes his other arm around Jaebum’s waist, gives it a squeeze, and murmurs into the cool night air, “Thanks again for picking me up. Don’t tell any of the others, but you’re my favorite hyung.” Jaebum can’t resist to boop Bambam’s nose at that, a little revenge for the earlier cheek pinch. Before Bambam’s ensuing screech can break Jaebum’s eardrums, he’s running to the driver’s side of his car. 

The next day Jaebum tells Jinyoung, smugly, “Bambam said I’m his favorite hyung.” 

“What?” Jinyoung pauses, his thick eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Yeah, of course you are. How do you not know this? I didn’t think you were that dense.”

“Oh.” 

So maybe it isn’t a secret that he’s Bambam’s favorite, but it’s still hard for him to believe sometimes.

 

-

 

The, frankly, climactic time that he sees Bambam begins as any other day. They’re in the university library, and Jaebum is attempting to help Bambam with his math homework. 

But Bambam is more whining than working. Jaebum loves him, but it’s a bit irritating. So he might be a little snappy when he says, “Bambam. Do you want to learn or do you want to waste my time?” 

Bambam looks properly scolded, mouth slamming shut. He sighs, “But hyung! I’m in the fashion industry, why do I need to know how to plot a quadratic function?”

Jaebum groans, “Bambam, it’s a parabola. It literally looks like a smiley face. Just be glad this is the only math class you need. Now memorize those graphs.”

Bambam pouts, and if Jaebum were a weaker man, he’d throw away the precalculus textbook that Bambam is sulking over, anything to make him happier. Luckily for Bambam’s grade, he’s seen that pout enough times to be immune to it by now (mostly). Even though it’s hard when the puppy eyes are paired with Bambam wearing the cutest reading glasses, and a cozy sweater. His blonde hair is more silvery grey today, the roots growing out, and he still looks good even when he’s not trying, bare-faced and tired. He might not be acting very studious, but he does look the part of wearied student, as he hunches back over the textbook when Jaebum doesn’t give in to his wheedling.

The peace lasts for about three homework questions before Bambam is interrupting it again, fanning his face with both hands, “Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?”

Jaebum doesn’t spare Bambam a glance from the laptop he’s working on, “It’s always you.”

Bambam squeaks, causing a few people to look over, which he ignores to instead send a wink and finger guns to Jaebum, “I knew you thought I was hot hyung!”

Still focused on his own work, Jaebum rolls his eyes, but indulges Bambam with a small smile, “I think the whole campus thinks that, Bambam.” 

“I don’t care about the rest of campus, though,” Bambam replies in an oddly serious manner, making Jaebum look up at him. Bambam’s appearance distracts Jaebum from his words. The omega looks flushed, and he’s back to fanning his face with his hands. When that fails, he starts pulling at his sweatshirt collar, waving it in an attempt to cool himself. As Bambam moves to tie his long bangs back into a tiny ponytail, away from his sweaty forehead, the darker stains on his sweater underarms are visible. 

Jaebum’s eyebrows crease as he frowns, eyeing the omega up and down, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm-hm!” Bambam answers, lips tight in an uncomfortable smile, but both hands held in a peppy thumbs-up. “I should go back to my dorm and change though. I think I overestimated how cold it would be. It is only September, after all.”

Jaebum’s eyes narrow in suspicion, unconvinced. Jokingly, he asks, “Are you trying to avoid math?” 

Bambam laughs, almost hysterically, as he haphazardly stuffs his textbook and the rest of his supplies into his backpack. “No, no, I promise to finish it this weekend. No worries!” Before Bambam can utter his classic See you around, hyung! that Jaebum has noticed he uses to escape conflict, Jaebum packs up his own items.

“I’ll walk you to your dorm,” Jaebum offers. His words are light, but Bambam can tell that while it’s not quite an order, it is more of a statement than a suggestion. Jaebum’s concern for him makes the heat coiling in Bambam’s stomach grow. 

When Bambam stands from their table, he has to grab the back of the chair when his legs wobble underneath him. He can see Jaebum’s frown deepening, and he quickly tries to cover for himself, “Just light-headed from sitting for so long.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaebum says slowly, starting to catch on. “Let’s get you back to your dorm.”

 

*

 

“Sorry man, I really can’t leave tonight, I have so much work to do,” Mingyu, Bambam’s roommate, a fellow junior, is saying.

Bambam is angry, sweaty and in pain. All he wants to do is curl up in his bed with a heating pad. “We talked about this, though! I told you I need the room for like, two days and you said it was fine.”

Mingyu really does look apologetic, and Bambam tries to be sympathetic of his academic plight, but he can’t believe this. He barely knows his new roommate so early in the semester, he doesn’t want to be in such a vulnerable, embarrassing state around an acquaintance. Bambam sighs, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. “Fine, I’ll go somewhere else.”

“Hey! Miss me already?” Jaebum jokes when he answers Bambam’s phone call. 

Bambam huffs, packing the essentials into an overnight bag, and asks in a saccharinely sweet voice, “How far have you gotten? Mingyu can’t leave the dorm. Can Jaebummie hyung come back and take me to his apartment?”

In any other situation Bambam knows that Jaebum would be blushing or stuttering in response to his flirting, but in moments like these, Jaebum’s innate responsibility takes center stage, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Bam.”

Bambam frowns, hurt, “I’d rather be safe with you during my heat than with some random little alpha.” He mouths sorry at Mingyu, who shrugs, too busy with his work to care. This time he’s sure he made Jaebum flustered, as the other end of the call is silent for a second.

“I’m on my way,” Jaebum replies abruptly and the call ends.

 

*

 

“Hyung, you’re so lucky you live off campus,” Bambam sighs longingly as they enter Jaebum’s apartment.

Jaebum nods, taking his coat and shoes off. He and Mark had moved in together for their first year of postgrad to avoid rooming with strangers. He asks, “Why didn’t you move out of the dorms then?”

Bambam follows Jaebum in stripping off their outerwear, “I was going to with Yugyeom, but he ditched me for Jinyoung and I had no other option.”

“Ah, yeah, them mating was a surprise,” Jaebum comments as he leads Bambam further into the small apartment, sitting himself on a couch in front of a large screen television. 

Bambam laughs a little, agrees, and pauses at the threshold to the living room. He’s still sweating, though not quite as much now that he’s in Jaebum’s cool apartment, no doubt the heater kept turned off to save money. As he’s wondering if it would be best to just go straight to bed, even though it was still too early to really fall asleep, Jaebum pats the sofa next to himself as he settles into his own seat. His legs spread and he looks up at Bambam with hooded eyes, words slurred in Jaebum’s smooth voice, “C’mere. Sit.”

Bambam can tell that this time, it was a command. 

The tension in the room is almost palpable as Bambam steps through the doorway. He glances at Jaebum’s lap. He has the strong urge to kneel between Jaebum’s legs, his thighs spread open and inviting, but he ignores it to instead carefully sit himself on the other cushion, a modest amount of space between them.

Jaebum throws an arm over the back of the couch, leaning toward Bambam. He breathes in, his eyes closed, and Bambam is surprised at the blatant display. He’s not really sure what Jaebum can smell on him, or if he maybe smells gross from all the sweating. Jaebum starts as he moves back, “You smell,” his eyes flick open and he pauses, “...tired.”

Bambam’s mouth drops a little and he scoffs, laughter following as he slaps Jaebum’s shoulder. “How can someone smell tired! You’re so annoying.”

Jaebum smiles as he watches Bambam shake his head in disbelief at his cheesy joke, “I know, but you do look tired. I just wanted to cheer you up,” Jaebum stops for a second to think, “okay, I’ll make dinner and then you can go sleep in Mark’s room, he’s doing an all-nighter with Youngjae.”

“Jaebum-ah wouldn’t offer me his room?” Bambam pouts, laying a tentative hand on Jaebum’s thigh. His silver painted fingernails shine compared to the dull color of Jaebum’s dark joggers. 

“Hyung,” Jaebum emphasizes, hand landing on Bambam’s atop his thigh, squeezing the boy’s fingers where they were smoothing out wrinkles in the fabric as an excuse to stroke Jaebum’s thigh, “thought that Mark’s room would be more neutral of a space for you, since he’s a beta.”

“Ah, hyung, but if we’re speaking… Biologically, wouldn’t an alpha’s territory be more comforting?” Bambam outrightly flirts, slipping his hand out from under Jaebum’s, sliding it higher up his thigh, “For an omega in heat like me, that is?”

Jaebum retorts, snatching Bambam’s wrist before his long fingers can reach their destination, “You’re not in heat yet, you’re just getting there. I’d smell it on you.”

Bambam whines at Jaebum’s teasing, flopping back onto his side of the couch. Jaebum continues speaking before Bambam can interrupt, “Let’s just pick a room and get it set up for you, so you can be comfortable.” 

From the other side of the couch Jaebum is sending Bambam that gentle smile, the one that curls the edges of his mouth in obvious affection, eyes bright and concentrated on him with an intensity that makes Bambam feel like he’s the only person in the world. In Jaebum’s world. Bambam feels a little tug on his heartstrings. Everything Jaebum does for him is so sweet and thoughtful, and it makes Bambam _ache_.

He can’t hold back anymore, he thinks, tired of running around each other in circles. So for once, he blurts it out, blunt enough for Jaebum to understand without any doubts, “Jaebum hyung, I like you. I know this is a bad time to tell you, but I can still go to Yugyeom’s if you want me to leave.”

Jaebum’s jaw drops. He’s frozen, staring at Bambam’s bare face, at the charming mole under his eye, at the slope of his sweet nose, the curve of his plush lips. He looks back down at his own lap, sees his scuffed sneakers and the unfashionable baggy pants, thinks about the stupid thick headband he’s wearing that makes his hair stick up all over the place. He’s having a hard time processing that this boy, Bambam, has confessed to him, when he’d given up hope ages ago. 

As Bambam’s face starts to fall, Jaebum quickly responds before he misunderstands, “I’ve liked you since last year! When you wore that blue turtleneck and the fake aviator glasses.”

Bambam’s eyes crease as his smile takes over his face, his laughter filling the apartment, “When you found me in your bed with Minhyuk! Hyung, why do you remember what I was wearing?”

“Because you looked so good that I wanted to tackle you back into my bed,” Jaebum breathily replies, close enough to the truth. Bambam doesn’t have to know about the photo album on his phone, that is now titled with a cheesy smiling face with hearts emoji, the one Bambam always uses when he’s texting Jaebum. “I mean, you were also naked and getting dressed in my dorm. Kind of hard to forget what you were wearing.”

Bambam’s breath hitches at Jaebum’s shameless flirting, the tables turning, but he fixates on one fact, laughter starting back up, “Oh no! I totally forgot about that, I can’t believe the first time we really met was when my dick was out.”

“Please, as if you care. You liked the attention,” Jaebum grins, sliding over to close the distance between them on the couch. 

Bambam ducks his head, a shy smile across his face, “I like your attention.”

“It’s all yours,” he responds, predicts the hand that comes up to smack him on the chest. If Bambam’s face wasn’t already red from his heat, Jaebum’s sure he’d be the one blushing for once.

“Ah, hyung,” Bambam shakes his head, as if disappointed. Jaebum knows he’s just trying to take the spotlight off his own embarrassment. It looks as if he has a clever response up his sleeve, but he instead curls into himself, clutching his stomach. Jaebum rubs a soothing hand down his back. From what he’s gathered in all the time he’s spent with Bambam, his heats are mild in duration, lasting a couple days at most, but usually painful. Jaebum moves them into his bedroom, giving Bambam his bed and a heating pad for him to clutch over his abdomen. Jaebum offers him a glass of water and a couple pills of migraine-level painkiller, stating that “it’s all I have here.” Bambam hastily gulps them down with a quick thanks.

“Hyung, I know we haven’t even talked about… us, yet,” Bambam’s nerves are obvious in how his voice wavers. “but can you stay? Help me through it?” 

The implications of the request are clear to both of them, and the inner conflict is obvious on Jaebum’s scrunched face. Before he can say no like Bambam knows his responsible nature wants him to, Bambam continues, “Like you said, I’m not in heat yet, so I’m perfectly capable of making decisions. And my decision is that you make me comfortable and I trust you, so if you’d like to stay, I want you to.”

Jaebum is silent, standing at his bedside and slowly breathing in and out. He’s contemplating the idea, but he must take a minute too long, because Bambam is backtracking, rambling, “I mean, you don’t have to though. That’s your choice. If you don’t want to, I’d get it.”

If Bambam won’t let him get a word in edgewise, he’ll try using actions. Jaebum kneels halfway onto the bed, right knee pressed next to Bambam’s thigh. He radiates warmth. Jaebum uses both hands to gently cup Bambam’s cheeks, cradling his face as if he was made of glass. Bambam lets out a small gasp when Jaebum’s cool hands touch his overheated face, grounding him from the slight panic he had created in his head. He understands what Jaebum is trying to convey. That he’s not going anywhere. That he’ll be there to guide Bambam through his heat. 

But for now, Bambam takes the initiative. He reaches forward, twisting his hand in Jaebum’s shirt, using it to pull him further onto the bed. Bambam brushes their lips together, and on one exhale he lets out a secret, words almost too jumbled to understand, “Hyung, no one’s ever stayed with me during my heat before.”

Bambam can feel it against his lips when Jaebum’s tongue darts out to lick his own. Jaebum’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion when he asks, reading between the lines, “Wait, have you ever been knotted?”

Bambam sniffs at the blunt question, “Well, no.” It’s not that he hasn’t wanted to try it. It’s just that every time he’s thought about it, fantasized about it, it was with Jaebum. He hasn’t met anybody else that he trusts enough to put himself in their hands. It’s always been Jaebum.

“Should we wait until your next heat? This isn’t something to rush into, Bam,” Jaebum pulls away, too far, a frown etched on his stupidly handsome face.

Bambam shakes his head, an amused smile on his face, “You worry about me too much, hyung.”

“Only ‘cause I care about you,” Jaebum relents, as his thumbs pause where they were stroking Bambam’s cheekbones. Bambam can feel one of Jaebum’s hands move to splay across the nape of his neck. His thumb applies a light pressure to the hinge of Bambam’s jaw. Bambam follows his lead, mouth dropping open slightly as Jaebum leans in to finally close the centimeter of space between them. The kiss is intense from the beginning, unresolved emotions building to this climax. Jaebum presses into Bambam from above, hand cradling his neck, and Bambam responds by tilting his head to allow for a better angle. When Jaebum chases after his tongue with his own, Bambam can already feel his pain dulling into something more tolerable, arousal darting up his spine to replace it. 

Jaebum pulls back only enough to adjust their position, tilts his head to kiss Bambam deeper and slower. It’s wet and warm and comforting, but Bambam breaks away to bite back a moan. Jaebum notices anyway, if the growing grin on his face is an indication. 

When they’re separated, they both take a moment to catch their breaths. Bambam falls back onto the bed, light blonde flyaways framing his face, as he sighs out, “Wow,” he cringes at himself, but continues, “We could’ve been doing that for ages now if you weren’t so dumb.”

“Hey, it takes two to not confess your feelings,” Jaebum counters. It’s half-hearted, but he’s more focused on swinging a leg over Bambam, to properly kneel above him. His presence is almost imposing, intimidating gaze and broad shoulders looming over him, and Bambam can feel his heartbeat quickening at the action. After throwing the heating pad to the floor, Bambam reaches up to touch Jaebum, hands splayed on his hips, over the atrocious nylon pants that he’s wearing. Jaebum looks down at him with a breathtaking, toothy smile as Bambam reaches a hand under his shirt. Bambam runs his long fingers through the hair trailing above Jaebum’s waistband, dips a finger into his bellybutton to make him flinch and laugh in surprise. Jaebum snatches Bambam’s wandering hand, holding it in both of his own. He hums in concern, “How are you doing?” 

“Better than ever,” Bambam sighs. 

Jaebum can tell that that isn’t quite true, as Bambam’s breathing has picked up into almost panting, his chest is heaving, and the smell in the air has turned sickeningly sweet, like the scent of ripe fruit. He figures that since they’re here now, he should do something to actually relieve Bambam from some of the stress that his hormones are causing him. Bambam hasn’t commented on it yet, surprisingly, but Jaebum knows that he must be unbearably turned on at this point in his heat.

“You’re being so patient,” Jaebum murmurs, tenderly stroking the side of Bambam’s neck, “Why don’t we make you more comfortable?” He releases the hold he had on Bambam’s hand, uses both of his own to lift up the hem of Bambam’s sweater. He lazily drags it up the length of the omega’s torso, teasingly slow even when a high-pitched, annoyed whine tries to get him moving faster. Jaebum’s palms leave a scorching path where they move up Bambam’s body, from his ribs, grazing over his nipples, until the sweatshirt is finally off and thrown across the room. 

Bambam looks rustled from just that, his glasses askew and the hair tie that held his bangs in a ponytail long gone. His hair falls in his face, framing his eyes. 

“Mm, look at you,” Jaebum practically purrs as he gently removes Bambam’s glasses to place on the nightstand. Mixed with the symptoms of his heat, Bambam already looks debauched. His bare chest is glowing from sweat in the dim light of the bedside lamp, and his pupils are dilated when he stares up at Jaebum with half-lidded eyes. Jaebum teases, “so wrecked already and I haven’t even started with you yet.”

“Maybe you should start before it’s your bedtime then, old man,” Bambam taunts. It’s weak, he’s too strung out to think of anything more witty, but Jaebum falls for it anyway. With a growl, he’s tipping forward onto his elbows, forearms bracketed around Bambam’s head, caging him in. A hand slides down, catching one of Bambam’s nipples with a thumb. Bambam sucks in a breath.

A smirk takes over Jaebum’s face, and before Bambam can begin to regret provoking him, Jaebum is hooking his thumbs into the band of Bambam’s sweatpants. He pauses to glance back up at Bambam, waiting for a final nod of confirmation. When Bambam lifts his hips to reassure Jaebum, he slips the pants down his legs, Bambam kicking them off when they tangle around his ankles. Once he’s left in only his scarlet red briefs, Bambam sinks into the bed, the warmth not as oppressive without his sweats. But a different kind of warmth moves in to replace it as Jaebum hovers over Bambam, his hand tracing a finger around Bambam’s nipple with a light touch. 

With a huff, Bambam challenges, “What about you?” The scratch of the rough material of Jaebum’s pants against his own bare thighs is hard to ignore. The idea of the imbalance of Jaebum staying fully clothed while they’re intimate is interesting, but that’s something Bambam thinks they can explore later.

For tonight, he’s happy to help Jaebum strip off his shirt, his wide knit headband going with it, to finally get him naked as well. His pants follow, and when he’s left in his boxers, they both pause to look at the other. Jaebum is so handsome, his lean, bare chest and the inviting trail of hair above his waistband. But Bambam can feel himself starting to become dizzier as the pain in his lower body worsens, “Hyung, it hurts,” Bambam whines, in an attempt to make Jaebum move from where’s he too distracted staring at Bambam, inches of smooth, naked skin on display in front of him.

“Right,” Jaebum nods after a sharp inhale of breath, and Bambam thinks that he might start freaking out, or freeze up, as he’s prone to do in situations that involve Bambam’s sexuality, but he’s pleasantly surprised when Jaebum’s face darkens in determination.

Jaebum leans over to reach into the nightstand, pulling out a few items and letting them tumble near where Bambam’s head is rested on one of the pillows. Bambam glances over to see a small bottle of lubricant and a strip of condoms.

“Cute that you think we’ll need either of those,” Bambam quips, picking up the condoms to throw them inside the open drawer. “I’m not that dumb to sleep around without being on birth control, and you know I’m clean. We’re good.” He’s about to grab the lube to toss back in as well, when Jaebum’s hand on his wrist makes him pause.

“Hm, cute that you think you know what we’ll need,” Jaebum says cheekily, but he allows the condoms to remain in the drawer. What does that even mean, Bambam thinks, wonders if Jaebum knows something that he doesn’t.

But Jaebum’s leaning in to kiss him again, and the idea of a horizontal makeout is much more appealing than any ominous warnings Jaebum might be sending. When Jaebum’s mouth meets his, Bambam melts into the bed. It’s softer this time, Jaebum moving slower, deliberate in his actions as his tongue traces Bambam’s lips. He pulls back until they’re only trading little pecks, the kisses soft and too sweet for the moment they’re in. 

Bambam jolts when he feels Jaebum’s hand creep down, the heel of his palm pressing against his clothed dick. The pressure is practically euphoric after spending the last hour half-hard, it’s a relief to finally have someone touching him. He hears Jaebum make a low noise when his dick spurts out a large enough amount of precum to cause a dark spot on the front of his red briefs, right under Jaebum’s hand working him over. Bambam keens at the feeling, arms reaching up to curl around Jaebum’s shoulders, the expanse of his back wide and the muscles under his hands shifting with every movement of Jaebum’s arm. 

With a huff of impatience, Jaebum grabs the waistband of Bambam’s briefs to tug them off. He pauses to take in the image of Bambam sprawled naked on his bed. A deep red flush has started to travel from his lower chest, weaving its way up to his bright face. He’s lean and skinny, has always been the target of too friendly ahjummas trying to fatten him up, but when he hangs around Jackson and Wonho it must be in the gym Jaebum supposes, asks as he eyes the lightly defined lines of Bambam’s chest, his wiry arms clinging steadily around Jaebum, “Have you been working out?”

“A little bit,” Bambam answers in between gulps of air. The moment of reprieve from Jaebum’s hand on him allows him to catch a breath, but he can also more sharply feel how hard, how wet his body is, so he goads Jaebum on, “Do you like it?”

Jaebum pinches one of Bambam’s perky, dusky nipples in response, an unimpressed look on his face, “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“Then give me some without having to fish,” Bambam pouts, hand moving to cover his abused nipple. Bambam pauses, and a light bulb seems to go off over his head before he flirts, “Or do you want me to beg?”

“Brat,” Jaebum snorts, but a grin spreads over his face, and a second later, Jaebum’s hand is back on Bambam’s cock. The cool metal of Jaebum’s many heavy rings against his bare, hot skin sends a shock through Bambam as Jaebum grasps him tightly. He spreads the precum leaking from the slit down the shaft to make the slide easier before he strokes hard and fast. 

Bambam gasps as he scrabbles for purchase against Jaebum’s back, words caught in his throat, “Hyung, hyung, too much—”

Jaebum leans back to watch Bambam writhe on his bed, back arching and head thrown into the pillow. Hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and his teeth are cutting into the pouch of his lower lip, reddening it. He’s captivated with Bambam. How he looks, indecent and overwhelmed. How he smells, the scent of arousal heavy in the air. He’s always been attracted to Bambam, but having him here, all around him, is beyond anything he ever could have imagined. 

“Mm, baby,” Jaebum purrs, and Bambam whimpers, at the pet name or because Jaebum has slowed down to a lazy pace on his cock, he isn’t sure, “God, just look at you, you’re already such a mess for me.”

Jaebum continues steadily stroking Bambam, twisting his wrist on the way up when he notices that it makes Bambam let out a tiny, sharp exhale every time. He ducks into Bambam’s neck, to nose at his jaw and murmur, “You’re so gorgeous, Bambam.”

With every feeling heightened due to his heat, Bambam’s been on the edge since Jaebum first touched him. Jaebum whispering into his ear with his low, smooth voice doesn’t help, his breath raising goosebumps across Bambam’s neck. 

“Ah,” Bambam tries to speak in between the gasps caused by each pull of Jaebum’s hand, “Hyung, ah, stop, wanna come on your knot.” 

“It’s okay baby, you’ll go again,” Jaebum soothes as Bambam’s babbling slips into incoherent whining. Jaebum’s hand doesn’t stop moving on Bambam’s cock, while his other hand slips further below. He teases down, fingers light against the soft skin of Bambam’s inner thighs, to where he’s dripping wet. He swipes his hand through the slick, bringing it forward to use to stroke Bambam with a more satisfying slide. The room is filled with the sound of Jaebum’s fist squelching, of Bambam hiccupping out pleas of _hyung, almost there_.

“C’mon, come for me, Bambam,” Jaebum coaxes, voice soft, as he shifts to brush the bangs out of Bambam’s eyes, where they’re scrunched up in pleasure. 

With a final pump and curl of his wrist, Bambam is coming between them with a gasp. Jaebum can feel Bambam’s body tensing against him, hear his name falling sweetly from Bambam’s lips. Bambam’s chest is heaving where it’s covered in his come, and the hand that Jaebum jerked him off with awkwardly hovers to avoid spreading the mess. Jaebum’s about to wipe it away with the sheets, before Bambam pulls the dirty hand to his lips, confidently licking the come off of his fingers. He’s still reclined against the bed, and Jaebum groans at the sight as Bambam sucks two fingers into his warm mouth, sliding his thick lips down until he hits the knuckle. It’s obscene, has Jaebum’s jaw dropping and dick responding—

But Bambam pops off Jaebum’s fingers with a surprised gasp, when he notices, “Hyung, you didn’t come? Should I help?” 

He doesn’t make an effort to move though, too tired and too relaxed against the cool bed.

Jaebum hums, amused at Bambam’s half-hearted offer. He shakes his head, “It’s fine, this was about you.”

“You take such good care of me,” Bambam sighs contentedly, languidly stretching on the bed like a cat, when a thought comes to him. “Wait, you knew I’d go again and—the lube… Have you done this before?”

Jaebum shrugs.

Bambam shoots up into a sitting position, demanding, “With who?”

“A few people,” Jaebum answers noncommittally. 

“And I thought I was special,” Bambam dramatically wails, flopping back onto the bed, elbow covering his eyes. He’s mostly joking, but he wonders if this is how Jaebum has felt the past year, jealous, with no real right to be. He almost feels bad. He was trying to make Jaebum jealous at one point, he’ll admit to Jaebum later, but he had turned out to be too nice of a person to react like other alphas Bambam’s met, and it only made him fall more in love with Jaebum. He’s angry with himself for letting it take so long for them to finally get here.

Jaebum latches a hand onto one of Bambam’s ankles, stroking the bone with his thumb. He’s still between Bambam’s legs, kneeling back onto his own heels, “You are special, to me. Haven’t you noticed?”

Bambam has noticed that his feelings aren’t unrequited. He’s noticed all of the times that Jaebum has taken his picture when he thought Bambam wasn’t looking. How Jaebum’s shoulder has always been there for him to lean or cry on. Even when he’s called Jaebum at the crack of dawn for a ride because he wanted to escape the walk of shame, how Jaebum came every time, how he never judged him even though he could sense Jaebum’s jealousy. How Jaebum’s smile always seems the brightest when he’s looking at Bambam. 

Bambam keeps the elbow covering his face, doesn’t want Jaebum to see him tearing up. He feels like he should apologize for all the times he unintentionally hurt Jaebum because he was scared about the future. He remembers that time he ran into Jaebum at the recording studio, when he was about to hookup with Jackson. He knew Jaebum from around campus, through Yugyeom as well, and he had run into him that time with Minhyuk, but he was in a hurry out the door, didn’t even really notice him. But in that studio, with Jaebum in his ugly camo pants, oversized sweatshirt and stupid, beloved bucket hat, he’s not sure that he exactly fell in love, but when he looked at Jaebum he swore something sparked inside him. There was something about Jaebum that drew him in that day, maybe it was fate or—maybe just the way he smelled, a strong wave of sandalwood and rich lavender. 

The thought of that scent brings Bambam back to the moment, where it lingers in the air, spiked with desire and mixed with his own. He’s getting himself worked up, and he blames it on his heat rearing its ugly head again. Elbow still in place and his voice wavering slightly, he finally responds, “I noticed. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Bambam hears Jaebum sigh from where he’s sitting several feet down the bed. He can feel Jaebum’s hand curl around his forearm, but his elbow isn’t pulled away from over his face, and the hand that rests there is oddly calming.

“Bam, I never wanted to pressure you into anything. I would’ve waited as long as you needed.”

Bambam lets his elbow fall. 

After a shaky inhale, he meets Jaebum’s gaze and says in a steady voice, “What I need is you.” 

Jaebum knows that, this time, he’s not lying in the slightest. The scent in the air has peaked and he can almost taste bittersweet grapefruit on his tongue.

“Okay, okay,” Bambam can hear Jaebum muttering to himself as he watches Jaebum slip off the boxers he had still been wearing. He feels an almost primal response to seeing Jaebum naked, his dick hanging heavy between his legs. Bambam’s jaw drops a fraction, and he wonders if he’s drooling, discreetly wipes at his mouth just in case. He tilts his head, stares, it’s large and aggressive and if he were a less experienced man he might’ve been intimidated. 

Jaebum’s hands find their spots back around Bambam’s ankles, giving him a smull tug down the bed and spreading his legs in the process. He lifts Bambam’s right leg, kissing at his ankle and moving up, lips fluttering kisses against his warm skin. He makes it to just above Bambam’s knee before the omega grunts in impatience and shakes his leg. Jaebum gets the idea, gives Bambam what he wants as he flips him onto his stomach unexpectedly. 

Bambam’s squeak in surprise is cut off, the air knocked out of his lungs into a sharp gasp when Jaebum spanks his ass cheek. The hit is on the right side of painful, the lasting sting due to how Jaebum’s hands are covered in rings, Bambam realizes, dazed. Jaebum doesn’t let Bambam recover from the slight shock as his hands reach to grab and roughly squeeze his ass, a palm on each cheek. From the positioning, Bambam can guess that Jaebum is kneeling over him. He groans at the lewd image, even though all he can see is the pillow that he’s buried his face in to muffle the loud noises he’s sure that he’s making. 

Bambam can feel when Jaebum leans over him, can also hear it, when Jaebum’s cock smacks between his cheeks. Jaebum rocks against where he’s cradled, the wet slide easy, as he grabs a handful of Bambam’s hair, gently pulls him back to rumble in his ear, “Don’t hold back baby, wanna hear you moan.” 

Bambam’s mind seems clear enough to bite back the sounds that Jaebum drags out of him, a taunting little tilt to his red, swollen lips where they’re pressed tight together.

“Still playing hard to get, huh?” Jaebum earns an almost inaudible giggle from Bambam, but to draw a needy whine out of the omega, he squeezes Bambam’s perky ass cheeks around his cock, rings digging into the raw flesh.

“No,” Bambam spills out on a cry, voice hoarse, “I’m yours, hyung.”

Jaebum makes a low, pleased noise in his throat. He leans in to kiss behind Bambam’s ear, to bite a hickey into the sensitive area that makes Bambam tremble. When a decently sized bruise has formed, he moves down Bambam’s long neck, pressing open-mouthed, wet kisses against him. He traces down Bambam’s back with his lips, leaving the occasional kiss or bruise. With every mark left behind, the alpha side of him that wants to claim Bambam screams in satisfaction. He pauses above Bambam’s ass, nuzzles his nose in the dip of his spine before pressing kisses to the soft skin.

High-pitched moans finally escape Bambam’s lips as Jaebum teases him. The sound resonates through the room, and Jaebum wants to record him, to put it in the background of a song. He’d have to keep that track to himself though, too selfish to share the obscene, erotic noises that Bambam makes. 

Bambam startles when Jaebum suddenly lets go of him. He hears a clink near his head, looks to see Jaebum twisting over to the nightstand, taking the rings off his left hand and dropping them into the drawer. The metal bands on his right hand remain. 

The cold, irregular shape of the rings against his tender skin makes Bambam suck in a breath as Jaebum grips an ass cheek again, pulling it aside to expose his pink hole. He’s glistening with slick, dripping down the inside of his thighs. Jaebum pauses, mesmerized, moves his hands to slowly spread Bambam’s slender thighs open, but Bambam is already whining out of impatience above him. Bambam wiggles his butt, urging him on. Instead of complying, Jaebum slaps where Bambam’s thigh and ass meet, where he’s wet from sweat and slick. The hit on damp skin rings through the room, but Bambam’s moan at the burn is louder, covers the noise of the spank. 

Jaebum can tell that Bambam is becoming truly desperate this far into his heat, his thighs are quivering where Jaebum’s holding them open, his tan skin is shining with a layer of sweat, and he can barely string together a full sentence. 

Jaebum lets go of one of Bambam’s thighs, his strong grip leaving behind a red handprint for a few seconds, the grooves of his rings imprinted into the inside of Bambam’s soft thigh. He dips the pad of his thumb into Bambam’s entrance, circles it around the rim. After a bite to Bambam’s inner thigh, Jaebum replaces the thumb with his mouth. He can hear his name falling from Bambam’s lips in a startled moan when he sucks at the pink rim. 

Bambam’s thighs, strained and shaking, finally fold and attempt to close around Jaebum, but his shoulders keep them open wide enough to accommodate himself. He scoops his arms under Bambam’s thighs, to wrap around under them and be able to reach back up to spread Bambam open with his hands. Jaebum follows a trail of slick with his tongue, from Bambam’s inner thigh, until he’s licking at his rim again, making Bambam squirm up the bed. He pushes his tongue just past the muscle when Bambam curses and roughly grabs a handful of Jaebum’s hair to push his head down further. Jaebum begins to obey this time, about to sink his tongue deeper, but he looks up, concerned, when he thinks he hears Bambam crying all of a sudden. 

Until Bambam says, laughter cracking his voice, “Hyung, you should’ve kept the mullet! I could’ve held on!” 

So, he’s laughing into the pillow. 

Jaebum thinks he must be a little delirious from the heat fever, because Bambam giggles into the bedding a little _yeehaw!_

Delirious, maybe, but still much too talkative for someone he was eating out only seconds ago. 

Jaebum flips Bambam over, wants to see his face. Bambam easily moves with him, small, exhausted and pliant. He flops onto the pillow on the other side of the bed, squishing his blotchy red cheek against the new, cool surface. He’s looking at Jaebum with obvious affection in his eyes, a wide, toothy smile on his face. 

Bambam is acting so sweet and playful, rolling around in his bed like a kitten. It reminds Jaebum of when he’s a little tipsy, a little flirty. Bambam is so cute, and Jaebum loves him. 

But he’s so alluring and almost sensual, nude and glowing in his bed that, at the moment, Jaebum only wants to ruin him. 

 

Bambam smiles up at Jaebum’s concentrated face, he loves to get Jaebum a little worked up. Jaebum looks so goofy when he’s faking annoyance, his eyebrows all scrunched and his jaw sometimes dramatically clenched. He knows Jaebum will always give the tough guy act up and just huff out a laugh at him fondly, maybe dish it back, or grab him in a trademark headlock. (Bambam realizes now, it must have been to avoid the urge Jaebum had to kiss him. He’d noticed it before, Jaebum staring at his lips.)

Bambam keeps getting caught up in his emotions during idle moments of the night. He wonders if it’s just a regular side effect of his heat, or if it it’s from the fact that Jaebum is with him during it. He assumes it must be the latter, must be this connection between the two of them that he’s sure they both can feel. Jaebum draws him from the thoughts he was lost in with soft murmurs of his name into his ear, and Bambam blinks slowly at him, too tired to pick his cheek up from where he’s cuddling a pillow. Now he thinks the haze he keeps falling into may just be a symptom. That he’s lost in thoughts of Jaebum, that’s another story.

“You alright?” Jaebum hums, brushing Bambam’s cheek with a knuckle, “Wanna take a break?”

Bambam shakes his head no quickly, and his answer is determined enough that Jaebum is confident to move forward with their plans. After a soft kiss to the mole under Bambam’s eye, Jaebum trails his lips down his neck, leaving nips that spike Bambam’s breathing again. He slides his hand over Bambam’s ribs, mouth shifting to bite at his collarbone as his hand teases further down, fingers dancing past the underside of Bambam’s cock, until Jaebum’s circling his rim, coating his finger with slick. He pushes in his index finger, at a pace that matches Bambam’s groan. Bambam throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed, adam’s apple prominent with his neck taut over the pillow. Jaebum begins to add a second finger after the first has sunk in to the last knuckle. He moves up to kiss lightly over Bambam’s bobbing adam’s apple, distracting him from the foreign press of his fingers. But the two fingers are sucked into him easily, Jaebum’s wrist wet from the dripping mess as he drives them in and out. He scissors his thick fingers apart, and Bambam hiccups at the fuller feeling, reaching to cling to Jaebum’s biceps, nails digging in. 

“Bam-ah, you’re so perfect,” Jaebum sighs in between laying kisses on Bambam’s neck. He shifts to murmur over Bambam’s parted, bruised lips, “so sweet and needy.” 

Bambam whines, and turns his face into the pillow, in a weak attempt to hide himself from Jaebum’s dark gaze, his pupils blown with desire. 

Jaebum chases after him, uses his clean hand to gently turn Bambam’s face back toward him. With his hand cradling Bambam’s face, a soft, warm cheek in his palm, Jaebum kisses him heatedly. Bambam opens up underneath him, mouth warm and velvet. Jaebum licks roughly into Bambam’s mouth, sloppy against where Bambam is panting from Jaebum pushing his fingers in and out of him as he adds a third. Bambam hiccups for air as Jaebum pulls away from him, a lopsided smirk on Jaebum’s sharp, handsome face above him. 

Jaebum’s three fingers thrust in at a rhythmic pace, each time crooking just right against his prostate to drag a second orgasm out of a mewling Bambam. His toes curl against Jaebum’s calves and they both feel when his release hits high between their chests. The amused, quirked eyebrow on Jaebum’s face seems to ask _untouched?_ and Bambam would shove that stupid, handsome face away from him if his limbs weren’t mush. 

Instead, he pouts and makes little grabby hands at Jaebum, whose face melts into an instant eye smile. Jaebum carefully pulls his fingers from Bambam, but he still winces when he’s left empty. He feels a strong craving to be filled up again, but ignores it for now to slip his arms around Jaebum’s neck.

Bambam thinks he’s drunk on affection, he feels like he might burst from emotion when Jaebum wraps his arms around him as well. Jaebum rocks them slightly as he rubs circles into Bambam’s back, palms firm and comforting against his skin. Bambam squeezes his arms around Jaebum once before letting go, slipping out from under him to flip back over onto his stomach again, tucking a pillow under his chest, on the side of the bed they had previously abandoned. 

Bambam’s head is still fuzzy from his heat, but he feels a little clearer after his last orgasm. Enough to notice that Jaebum has hesitated. He watches as Jaebum is caught between staring at Bambam and sending wistful glances at his dresser. Bambam is confused before he notices the lineup of Jaebum’s cameras atop the furniture. 

Groaning into the pillow that he buries his face in, Bambam waves his hand toward the dresser, “Go on. Not digital, I don’t need my nudes to leak at any point in my career.”

Jaebum excitedly hops off the bed to bound over to the cameras. He’s taking slightly too long to choose one, but it allows Bambam a moment to admire him. His back is so wide and sturdy where he hunches over the lineup, making a careful decision. Bambam’s sure he’s taking into account the lighting in the room and whether he wants to use film or polaroid. Bambam sees him pick up a polaroid camera. Now, to wait until Jaebum gets a picture he’s happy enough with, Bambam thinks, knows Jaebum’s artistic process well at this point. He wonders how Jaebum has lasted this long without coming, when Bambam himself just had two orgasms. He supposes it might be an alpha trait, but he’s never spent his heat with one to have found out.

 

Honestly, Jaebum’s too distracted with Bambam to really have noticed his own needs. Sure, it’s a little painful, but he’s lasted longer. And Bambam looks so good sprawled across his bed, red and purpling marks all over his body. He looks almost ravaged enough for the alpha inside Jaebum to be satisfied. Jaebum aims the camera at Bambam’s face, his lips swollen and bitten, blonde hair glowing and sticking up from static, surrounding him in a makeshift halo, and eyes… glaring at Jaebum. Bambam says, indignant, “No way, my face can’t be in it. What if you lose the polaroid?” 

Jaebum doubts he’d ever lose a polaroid like that, but he respects the request, points the camera at Bambam’s collarbones instead, barely visible peeking out from the pillow he’s resting on. They’re marked from some time in the night, little bruises blossoming. He doesn’t wait for the polaroid to develop, tosses it to the nightstand when it dispenses out of the camera. Jaebum doesn’t need to look at it to know how beautiful Bambam is. He tells him as much, “You’re a piece of art, Bam.”

“Why don’t you come appreciate the art in person, hyung?” Bambam teases, batting his eyelashes over a shoulder. Jaebum places the camera down on the bed gently, to do just that.

Jaebum kicks a leg over Bambam, knees digging into the bed next to Bambam’s thighs. He looks down at Bambam from the new perspective, and his mouth goes dry. He decides to let Bambam wait a little longer, figures it can build the anticipation. He reaches back to his discarded camera, angles it at the back of Bambam’s neck, where his knobby shoulder blades tremor slightly from exertion. 

Jaebum’s breath hitches as he looks through the viewfinder, camera following the curve of Bambam’s spine. Bambam’s waist is tiny where his upper body tapers down into an almost hourglass figure. 

Bambam is soft and slender when Jaebum glances at him over the top of the camera, but the frame is missing something when he looks back through the viewfinder. It always frustrates him when the camera can’t capture life as well as he’d like it to. Especially when the image it bastardizes is someone like Bambam.

Balancing the camera in his left hand, Jaebum instinctively grips the dip of Bambam’s waist with the other. The image is immediately complete, the frame enhanced by the sensual image of Jaebum’s ring clad hand possessively covering Bambam’s small waist. Jaebum is very suddenly aware of his own arousal pooling low, the desire to claim, to own, Bambam rising. 

Jaebum takes the photo of Bambam’s dainty waist, his own hand remaining in place. The picture will likely come out a little blurry, the camera wavering where he’s precariously holding it in the other hand. 

But Bambam lets out a breathy whine when the click of the camera echoes in the quiet room. The picture flutters somewhere near where Jaebum places the camera back down. Jaebum is too distracted with the idea he’s getting, the signals that maybe Bambam enjoys being the center of Jaebum’s attention a little too much, and he’s inspired. Bambam really is his muse, he thinks.

Bambam’s confidence is attractive, the way he carries himself with poise, and paired with his bold flirting, he’s easily made Jaebum flustered before, on different occasions. But now Jaebum wants to exploit it, taunts, “Aw, do you like being photographed by me? Is it turning you on knowing how gorgeous you are? Knowing how much I want you?” 

When Bambam’s only response is a hiccuped _yeah_ , Jaebum persists in a drawl, as the hand he has clutched on Bambam’s delicate waist tightens, “You’re so pretty, God, I want to fuck you so bad.”

Bambam looks over his shoulder to meet Jaebum’s dark eyes, and he begs, “Yes, hyung, please, just fuck me already, knot me, please—”

He’s cut off when Jaebum reaches for his hips, brings him up onto his hands and knees. Bambam moans, excited at almost getting what he _needs_.

“Hold on, baby,” Jaebum hushes as he thrusts three fingers back into Bambam, hitting his prostate clumsily once before he pulls them back out, wraps his hand around his own cock. He groans at the touch, sensitive from neglecting his own needs to cater to Bambam. He strokes up and down, spreading Bambam’s slick to use as lube. With a hand curled around Bambam’s hip, Jaebum uses the other to line his cock up with Bambam’s rim. He pauses to ask, “Okay?”

“Please, Jaebum hyung, make me yours,” Bambam whines, fists clenching the sheets. His eyes are wet, unfocused and almost lost in pleasure. Bambam’s reduced to a begging mess, desperate and vulnerable in his bed, and it makes Jaebum feel almost powerful. That Bambam trusts him to this extent, has given him this much control. Jaebum might be a little overwhelmed too.

But Bambam is still pleading for him, and something in Jaebum’s gaze hardens, his hand around Bambam’s hip tightens. 

“Mm, but, baby,” Jaebum begins, pauses as he’s distracted watching the head of his cock sink into Bambam with little resistance, “haven’t you always been mine?”

Bambam’s arms buckle under him and he falls onto his elbows as Jaebum steadily pushes into him. The press of Jaebum’s cock is unhurried but unrelenting, and a loud moan punches out of Bambam’s throat. 

“ _Yes_.”

Jaebum’s not sure if it’s meant to be a meaningful answer, Bambam’s voice high and thready, or a reaction to Jaebum splitting him open.

“Fuck, Bam, you’re so tight for me,” Jaebum pants once he’s bottomed out, stays still as he lets Bambam have a moment to adjust to him, “bet you’ll feel even better around my knot.”

Bambam hiccups at the reminder that there’s still more to come. He’s already so full, can feel the painful, pleasurable stretch as Jaebum patiently waits for him. The discomfort fades after a few moments of Jaebum gingerly stroking Bambam’s lower back, rings cool against the omega’s feverish skin. Bambam slowly rocks his hips back into Jaebum, chasing the feeling and encouraging him to continue.

Jaebum pulls out halfway, only to shallowly, teasingly thrust back into him. Bambam whines in frustration at Jaebum’s languid pace, urges him on by crying _please, hyung, harder_. Jaebum’s fingers dig into the skin of Bambam’s hips, grounding himself to slam into Bambam. He can’t resist Bambam begging for him, he’d give this boy anything he ever asks for. Bambam’s loud noises mix with the slap of skin on skin as Jaebum’s pace quickens, hips snapping against his ass. Bambam’s moans energize him, and his hip bones hit Bambam’s ass cheeks repeatedly, hard enough to bruise, he hopes. The harsh pace falters as Jaebum presses open-mouthed kisses against Bambam’s shoulders, up his neck. 

Jaebum’s mouth wanders back to the nape of Bambam’s neck, where he fixates, kissing and licking. He wants to bite down, leave his mark, claim him, but they haven’t discussed that yet. Although—maybe Bambam had hinted at it. It wouldn’t be permanent after all, would have to be kept fresh if they wanted to signify their bond. That they were mates. 

But Bambam hadn’t asked for that, had only asked Jaebum for support during his heat. Jaebum removes his mouth from Bambam’s nape, with only a kiss left behind. He focuses back on fucking Bambam through his heat, slow, precise strokes drawing high keens from Bambam as he grinds his hips back with each thrust.

Jaebum groans when he’s almost on the edge, can feel it in the heat pooling in his groin, in how the base of his dick swells where he’s pistoning in and out of Bambam.

Bambam curses as the burn that had disappeared earlier reemerges, as Jaebum’s knot catches at his rim and stretches him even further. He’s about to regret jumping into this so soon, should’ve taken the out Jaebum had offered him earlier. Relief floods his senses when he hears the click of Jaebum opening the abandoned lube bottle, when his thoughtful hyung drizzles a generous amount of the cold liquid between them. Bambam’s tensed body relaxes. Jaebum is so caring, he’s so glad that he waited to do this with him.

The rhythmic creak of the bed frame with every thrust echoes in the room. Bambam hiccups as Jaebum’s thrusts become short and aborted as he focuses on pushing the still growing knot in. The lube aided in dulling the burn, but the pressure is intense, nothing like Bambam’s ever experienced before. He’s glad for the distraction that comes when Jaebum’s hands move to toy with his nipples, rolling and pinching them. When the strange pressure releases he hears a deep groan from Jaebum, and he’s sure that the entire knot is in him. From above him, Bambam hears Jaebum speaking almost reverently, guesses that he watched as his knot sank in, “God, Bambam, you were made for this, weren’t you?”

Bambam whimpers at the awe in Jaebum’s voice, too overwhelmed from the sensation, from how exhausted he is, from how he’s aching for Jaebum to move, to do something— 

Jaebum accidentally jolts within him, the movement shocking but satisfying as his knot drags against soft, wet inner walls. It makes Bambam let out a wet gasp, his breath strained and the feeling of tears at the back of his eyes. Above him, Jaebum makes a low, soothing noise. 

Jaebum’s hand reaches down to pet Bambam’s hair off his sticky forehead, murmuring, “You’re so good, it’s okay, baby.” Bambam nuzzles into his hand when Jaebum moves to stroke his cheek, and it’s so sweet that it draws another soft noise from Jaebum’s throat. 

Bambam sniffles, so many emotions cross his face, but he blinks away any possible tears before they can fall. After a deep breath, Bambam nods his head to spur Jaebum on.

With every jerk of Jaebum’s hips, he shifts enough to press against Bambam’s prostate. Bambam gasps at the constant stimulation, his body trembling until his knees finally slip out from under him. He slumps into the bed, Jaebum following him with a grunt.

Bambam sighs as Jaebum’s frame covers him, broad shoulders enveloping his. Jaebum’s chest is warm molded against his back, and his weight on top of Bambam is comforting. 

Bambam reaches a hand back to tangle his long fingers in Jaebum’s hair, to pull him closer. Over Bambam’s shoulder the strain is uncomfortable, but the kiss he initiates is deep, mostly spit and tongue. Bambam whines, trying to express his need, as Jaebum bites his bottom lip when he pulls away, the angle too awkward to hold. 

Jaebum’s arms wrap under Bambam’s, lifting his hips away from the bed and clinging to his shoulders for leverage as he grinds his hips into Bambam. Bambam’s grip on his hair remains, he holds on even when Jaebum’s short thrusts shove him up the bed a fraction. Every little movement rubs his knot against Bambam’s prostate, and with his free hand, Bambam reaches to stroke himself, his third orgasm building. 

Jaebum is nosing at his neck, and after a muffled moan, Bambam realizes Jaebum is smelling him, turned on by his scent. The idea almost makes him come, he just needs—Jaebum’s hand gripping his cock, his honey voice crooning into Bambam’s ear, “C’mon baby, get yourself off on my knot.”

A few more moments of his and Jaebum’s fists pumping his cock, Jaebum pressed against his prostate, and Bambam feels tears collect in his eyes again. He feels like he’s going to burst, gasps out _hyung_ as he comes all over his own chest and the bed. Bambam can feel himself contract around Jaebum, hears it when Jaebum hisses at the tight squeeze. 

“ _Jaebum hyung_ ,” Bambam sighs, exhaustion and affection fighting in his voice, “come inside me.” 

Bambam whines at the loss of Jaebum’s comfortable warmth when the alpha leans away. Jaebum’s hands curl around his hips for the nth time that night, and before Bambam can become too sensitive, Jaebum is rutting against him, the sound of slick squelching out at each drive of his hips. Bambam pushes back to meet Jaebum, grinding in circles and purposefully clenching around his cock to bring him to the edge more quickly. Jaebum’s thrusts become erratic, his nails digging crescents into the skin of Bambam’s hips, and his knot catching on Bambam’s rim with every jerk. 

Bambam hisses at the sensation, feels his own dick twitch in an effort to get hard again, even though he’s spent and sleepy. Jaebum buries his face into Bambam’s neck, the bridge of his nose rubbing under his jaw. On a deep inhale Jaebum can tell that his own scent is all over Bambam, mingling with the omega’s naturally sweet smell. Jaebum’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he takes in their scents mixing, and the idea that people will know that Bambam is his.

Not long after, with a final few thrusts, Jaebum is coming without warning. He rides the orgasm, hips grinding into Bambam’s ass and head thrown back. Bambam gasps as Jaebum spills inside him, hot come filling him and the still hard knot remaining in place.

After a moment, the overstimulation becomes too painful for Bambam, Jaebum’s knot still pushing directly against his prostate. Bambam sniffles, the water that had been gathering at the corners of his eyes finally falling. He’s hard again, yet he’s so tired. The tears stem from overexhaustion, but when Jaebum notices his wet face, he panics. 

“Baby?” Jaebum breathes, voice thick with matching emotion as he curls around Bambam’s back, a reassuring hand petting his hair. When Bambam only shakes his head in reply, hands covering his crumpling face, Jaebum makes a sad noise, “Bambam.” 

Jaebum loops his arms around Bambam’s chest, shifting them onto their sides until they’re spooning. The new position moves the pressure away from where Bambam is too sensitive, and he lets out a sigh of relief. 

When the pain is gone, Bambam whines at how hard he is again. His head is too hazy to string words together, but he and Jaebum have always been on the same wavelength.

“I’ve got you,” Jaebum coos as his hand wraps around Bambam for a final time. Bambam hiccups as Jaebum’s hand touches his cock. He’s on his fourth orgasm of the night, and it’s short and fast, Jaebum jerking him off until Bambam is coming dry into his fist. Jaebum’s hand moves to splay over Bambam’s chest, where the rapid beating of his heart has finally had the chance to begin to slow down, and he repeats in a murmur, “I’ve got you.”

Bambam’s eyelids slip closed and he easily begins to drift into slumber, fatigued, body becoming limp and sinking into the sheets, as Jaebum strokes his hair and holds him close.

Later, when Jaebum’s knot has subsided, and Bambam wakes up to the familiar sound of a song that was most definitely inspired by him, he turns in Jaebum’s arms. Bambam murmurs into Jaebum’s shoulder, almost shyly, “Thanks, Jaebum hyung.” His fever has broken, and the heat has waned. He knows it’ll flare up again soon, but for now he’ll enjoy the peace.

Jaebum quirks a smile, bemused at Bambam acting demure after everything, “For sex?”

Bambam pouts, and Jaebum can feel it where his bottom lip catches on Jaebum’s skin, “For staying with me. For taking care of me.” _For loving me_ goes unsaid for now, but is felt in the warm gaze they share.

Bambam leans up to press a lingering kiss onto Jaebum’s cheek, and the tables turn a final time, Jaebum reddening under Bambam’s lips. Bambam’s just glad that he can still have that effect on his hyung.

 

-

 

(“Hyung?” Bambam calls, wondering why he’s taking so long in the bathroom. He’s nibbling on a piece of the kimbap that was left on the bedside table. Jaebum must have gotten it from the kitchen earlier when he was still asleep, Bambam muses. 

The music he woke up to is coming from Bluetooth speakers on the studio desk in the corner of Jaebum’s room. Bambam recognizes it as one of the songs Jinyoung’s sent him. He grabs Jaebum’s phone from the table, sees that he’s playing from an album with no name. But the little album cover is a picture of his own profile, from the nose down. He can’t remember when Jaebum took the photo. 

Curious, Bambam slides his finger to open Jaebum’s phone. He guesses the passcode, 0502, and the phone unlocks. Predictable. But he’s a little surprised at the homescreen, the picture of him under a streetlight. Jaebum’s lockscreen had been of Nora. He feels a little guiltier for looking through Jaebum’s phone, but they are photos of him, after all. And he knows Jaebum wouldn’t really mind.

“Bambam?” Jaebum finally calls in response from the bathroom. The faucet turns off, and Jaebum walks back into the bedroom with a hand towel to wipe Bambam off with. He notices that Bambam is holding his phone in his other hand. 

“Why do you have a whole album of pictures of me on here? With like a dozen heart face emojis as the name?”

Jaebum drops the towel and jumps onto the bed to tackle Bambam back into the sheets, cupping his face with both hands, and covering it with kisses.

“Jaebum-ah you didn’t answer!”)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic, pls excuse it being one big ol cliche 👉👈 this kinda became a mess bc idk creative writing but it was just for fun during break. i'm not totally satisfied with it but since the semester has started i'm posting it now or i never will. so i just hope one person enjoyed it lol :)
> 
> [THis](https://emojipedia-us.s3.dualstack.us-west-1.amazonaws.com/thumbs/120/apple/155/smiling-face-with-smiling-eyes-and-three-hearts_1f970.png) is the heart face emoji they use btw its the cutest one okay
> 
> this fic is unbeta'ed and no one's read it so i'm taking a shot in the dark! i'm most worried about perspective stuff and bambam's characterization.. i know its fiction but if something rubs you the total wrong way lmk! just in case i ever write fic again lol. bbam are so cute and they dont have much fic so u never know akdfjasd
> 
> omg i was so embarrassed writing the smut omg idk how yall do this! like i'm still embarrassed while posting this but i'm not letting 40 pages of writing go to waste lmao
> 
> btw idk monsta x or mingyu im sorry i just used them because theyre cute and friends with got7 adfkljadlksf
> 
> anyway idk if this has too many feelings or not enough but moral of the story is i want a gf


End file.
